Persephone and the Pear

The apples scattered from Persephone’s hands and rolled like burning rubies, tell-tale signs, through the greening grasses. This is what Demeter found and launched her into the frantic hunt for her lost daughter- or so I’d like to imagine.

I found the signs in the grass. In a tiny parcel of wild land, bound by a dentist’s parking lot on one side and a jeep car sales’ lot on the other, I found the signs of Persephone’s passing, sweet tiny apples tucked in the grass. Flies and hornets feasted, the hornets’ stingers vibrating in ecstasy over the sweetness. I picked a few apples that weren’t burst or bruised and tucked them into my pockets, taking the time to gaze up in the boughs. There weren’t any apples there; already the season is passing by, already we are beginning to count the days till spring.

I found pears too and delighted over their luscious shapes, hot women ready to be bitten into, chewed and swallowed. The trees are so out of place in this tarmac oasis but it was clear they were planted out of love long ago; after all you “plant pears for your heirs.”

The autumn solstice marks our descent into the winter- or the descent into hell if you’re a girl caught up by the god of the dead. The descent is slow and curving, marked by tremendous abundance where food litters the ground and trees shed their colors in a glorious shower. Everywhere, the wealth swirls by and catches our eyes and ears and hearts. It’s a tremendous pageant before winter’s austere coloring and as I click a few pictures of apples, I can’t help wonder at the beautiful story of a mother’s fierce love for her child. She tosses her love to us even now and we eat it up, apple by apple and pear by pear.

2 thoughts on “Persephone and the Pear”

I thought those names might have something to do with Greek mythology so I googled it I don’t think I’ve read that one. But I find it fascinating how you come across these things that spur the imagination, a thought here and then another, and another adds on to it. From you noticing a simple apple where maybe no one else noticed. I enjoyed reading it, how you write. And wonder how it all came to you or maybe that’s too much to ask authors. But I sometimes wonder if there are others who’s train of thought happens like mine. So many times I will see something and know there is a story, or different stories, that are waiting to be told. The hard part is actually knowing how to share it I think. Thanks for sharing your creation with us, Catherine.